"Who knows? Perhaps we shall get out of it better than we fancy."
"One thing is certain, we shall soon know all about it."
"Let us take that street in front of us. It is wide and well laid. Something tells me it will lead us right."
"Heaven's mercy! that is as good as another."
The hunters entered the street ahead of them. Accident had served them well. After ten minutes' walk, they found themselves at the entrance of the great square. "There," Brighteye said, in a tone of delight, "luck is with us. We cannot complain; besides, it must be so. Accident always favours madmen, and in that character we can claim its entire sympathy."
"Silence!" Don Miguel said, sharply, "there is someone."
"Where?"
The young man extended his arm in the direction of the Temple of the Sun. "Look!" he cried.
"So there is," Brighteye muttered, a moment later, "but that appears to be doing like us. He is evidently on the watch. What reason can he have for being up so late?"
After arranging, in a few words, the two adventurers separated, and crept, from different sides, toward the night watcher, hiding themselves, as well as they could, in the shadow, which was not an easy task. The moon had risen some time previously, and spread a weak light, it is true, but sufficient to let objects be distinguished for a considerable distance. The man on whom the adventurers were advancing still remained motionless at the spot where they had seen him; his body bent forward, his ear leant against the door of the temple, he seemed to be listening carefully. Don Miguel and Brighteye were not more than six paces off, and were preparing to rush on him, when he suddenly threw himself up. They with difficulty suppressed a cry of surprise. "Flying Eagle!" they muttered. But although they spoke so low, the other heard them, and immediately sounded the darkness with a piercing glance.